Since I’d never seen Yo La Tengo before and couldn’t recall what any of them looked like and Town Hall Seattle’s website didn’t mention an opening act, I assumed that the first guy who came out was a member of Yo La Tengo. He had a beard, he seemed kinda grumpy, and he proceeded to noodle away on his guitar for what seemed like—well, the point is, Brendan Kiley and I left and went to the Sorrento to have a drink by the fireplace. “Yo quiero Yo La Tengo,” I kept saying, which are just about the only Spanish words I know.

When I got back to Town Hall, there was Yo La Tengo, their set having just started. The whole evening was not unlike sitting by the fireplace with Yo La Tengo, except that you were sitting with hundreds of other people and there was no fireplace. It was less of a show and more of a conversation with the audience, casual and associative, wherein they simply let the audience ask them anything, and the questions would inspire stories, and the stories would lead them to this song or that one or this one from way over here.

For instance, someone in the crowd asked the band what their favorite Tom Courtenay film is, and Ira (guitar) said to his wife Georgia (drums), “What’s your favorite Tom Courtenay film?”

Georgia: “Billy Liar.”

Ira: “That’s a good one.” Complete silence. “Very popular with the audience.”

James, the bassist, chimed in: “We actually recorded this song in Seattle. And we ate at 13 Coins afterward.” And then they started in on it—the song “Tom Courtenay.”

Someone asked about how “Autumn Sweater” was written, and Ira said, “That song just—came out—I dunno why—that’s one of the fastest songs we ever wrote.” Someone asked what their “guiltiest pleasures” are, and they couldn’t think of any, and then they asked the questioner what her guiltiest pleasure was, and she said “smoking,” and then everyone in the band agreed that was theirs too. Someone asked James about an album of Prince covers he did that has since been pulled from stores, so you can’t get it anymore, and someone in the audience shouted, “What about the internet?”

“I love the internet,” Ira said.

“Oh yeah, the internet’s great,” James said.

“Thumbs up,” Ira said.

It was homey like that. Funny. Sweet. Someone asked if she could give everyone in the band a hug. (Yes, later.) Ray Davies was discussed (“Somebody mentioned the Kinks and before and we’re in a church so I thought we’d do a Ray Davies church song,” Ira said, and then they played “God’s Children.”) Jim Woodring got a shout-out—actually, was described as a God. The Eagles were mocked (“How’s that new Eagles record? I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet,” Ira said, and James said, “We should stop by a Wal-Mart and pick it up.”) Someone asked about novels and Ira said he’d just been in a bookstore and bought Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates as well as a book about barbecue places, which “is not exactly a novel, but it’s a real page-turner.”

It was wonderful. It was wonderful to be sitting down and listening to Yo La Tengo. (Note to everyone: there should be more sitting at shows.) They played “Upside-Down.” They played “Season of the Shark.” They played “The Weakest Part.” It was getting to be the end of the set, one more song, and they hadn’t played “Autumn Sweater,” even after that question about it, and you couldn’t help but hope—please, c’mon, play “Autumn Sweater”—that they would end with it, what with it being autumn and sweater season and all.

Then they played a fucking gorgeous “Autumn Sweater.” And got a standing ovation. And came back for an encore.